Shattered Concepts
by ashoutinthedark
Summary: The United States is reeling from the backlash of their unit-gone-rogue, while those involved had been sworn to secrecy, the media had still gotten its hands on the story. With a new student joining from America, how will this affect his...yes his... time at the Academy?


**(A/N: So I'm putting this out there to feel the waters. It has been seven years since I have posted anything on this site, and four since I've written pretty much anything at all. This chapter will either get longer, or I'll just start another after, but I wanted to put this out to see if there was any interest in it at all. Constructive criticism always welcome.)****  
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_Tears of the Moon_

_Chapter 1: What is this?!_

The Infinite Stratos. A mecha system that allowed humans the power of flight, incredible access to weaponry that can be summoned at a moments notice, and strength incomparable to what had been seen as of yet. Originally intended for use in low or no-atmosphere environments, it had over the last eight years become everything from a weapon, to an exploration tool, to a rescue device. However, with exactly one exception, the I.S. had a single, major, outstanding flaw. Its would only respond to a female pilot.

But Blake Falconi was reasonably sure he knew what an I.S. looked like, and what was in front of him was certainly not one. Instead of a hulking piece of equipment that the I.S. was when it was shut down and not in the user's standby mode, this one was much more streamlined, not any larger than he was. It was a full body suit, unlike the parts and pieces an I.S. was comprised of, and looked a little more…formidable. Along both walls, there were at least a hundred different weapons mounted on racks. The young man stood there with his mouth hung open, amazed at what he had literally under his own house.

It had been a trap door that lead him there, one that he had found by shuffling through a set of drawers in the kitchen, looking for a screwdriver of all things. He must have bumped something, and a hidden latch released, opening up a stairway that led down to a basement he never knew the house had.

Blake knew his father, Arren Falconi was a genius engineer, and had been on the cutting edge of American I.S. development for years, specializing in the quantum physics and quantum shifting mechanics of the machines, but this was like a personal armory, not a hobby shop. A voice cleared behind him, bringing him back to reality. He jumped in surprise, and spun wide-eyed towards the noise. His father stood there, scratching the back of his head.

"Eeeh, I wish I could have found a better way to introduce you to this," his father said hesitantly. "You see, I just got tired of women being the only ones with the kind of power those Stratos suits provide. I mean, isn't the old way of chivalry that us men are supposed to be the ones to protect them?"

Blake stared at his father, not knowing what to say.

"Really, it was supposed to be your birthday present next week. I was going to give it to you to display for the big I.S. convention, and just let you keep it. You see, I figured if I could use it to get you into that I.S. school in Japan, then there wouldn't be any threat of anyone coming after you to try to get to me about this new technology, and it would keep the suit safe as well, since you would have it."

Again, all Blake could do was stare.

"Although…" his father's voice seemed to drift. "I haven't been able to convince them to admit you yet…"

"Dad!" Blake finally found his voice. "You think you can just throw this at me, expect me to jump to the conclusion that I should suddenly become the caretaker of your science project!? How would you know I would even want to go to that academy, it's all the way out in Japan!"

His father wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder, leading the two of them over to the couch. "I had hoped, son. I've watched you, and the way you pay attention to that one male I.S. pilot. I know you learned Japanese from your mother while she was still alive, and though I know you continued studying and perfecting it was for her, it is also because of your admiration of them out there. Son, I can't make an I.S. that will let you move it. I can, however, give you this."

Again, Blake let his attention travel over to the armor suit.

"It started out as an armored power suit. I called it the Halo project. My first ideas were to recreate the power-armor from an old video game, but as I worked on it, it took more shape. It got smaller, more streamlined, but stronger and faster. If my project was going to work, it would have to be able to hold up to the standards of the I.S. units, even though it wouldn't be one. By moving away from using the Core technology to power it, we have been able to also get away from some of the I.S.'s weak points. You are no longer limited to bus slots, but what can be stored on your Quantum Rack, or QR. The QR is made up of the walls you see around us here, although the technology is portable and can be moved from place to place. All you have to do is hang your weapon on the wall and register it.

The downfall, however, is that your weapons cannot be powered by your suit. You will still be limited by clips, onboard battery lives, and solid state weapons, although this can also be a high point as well, since you will have a plethora of weapons always at hand, and it won't chip away at your own power reserves to use them.

Your flight comes from the Variable Specific Impulse Electromagnetic Rockets in you're the bottom of your boots, and from several thruster vents on your shins, back and shoulders. The VASIMR system literally pulls the water from the air around you, converts it to hydrogen, and through the help of the reactor and magnetic fields the engines create, converts that hydrogen to plasma, providing tens of thousands of pounds of thrust at a moments notice.

However, with the amount of thrust I put on here, the reactor is rather taxed, and your shields are not exactly the strongest. You would have to use your speed, agility, and smaller size to use and avoid getting hit rather than try to weather the hits."

Blake stood, and turned to look at his father. In his steely blue eyes, there was a determination that he had inherited from his father. "Ok dad. I'll do it. But I only have two months left to learn to use this thing before classes would start. And that's if I can even get in. We need to move the debut of your invention up though, because the faster we reveal it, the faster we can try to apply for me to go to school."

Arren Falconi smiled, patting his son on the back. "I'll make a few phone calls, and see what I can do. First, we need to get you into this suit, and make sure it is sized to you correctly."

I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S-I-S

The school's bell chimed electronically, gently announcing the start of the school day. In their homeroom, students made their way to their seats as the teacher at the front of the room rose quietly from her desk, and made her way quietly to the podium. She tucked a wayward strand of her green hair behind her ear, and adjusted her glasses, barely blushing as she worked up her courage to introduce herself to the class.

"H-hello," she spoke, her voice soft and timid. "My name i-is Yamada Maya, and I will be your homeroom teacher for room 1-3 this year. It is my first year as a homeroom teacher, so let's all learn together."

There was a hush through the room as the students stared back at their teacher, who was now starting to blush a little deeper.

"Why don't we go around the room in seating order, and introduce ourselves."

Blake sank a little lower in his chair. His Japanese was not bad at all, but he still had a very noticeable American accent, and after last years incident there was no abundance of love for the Americans. The entire ordeal was supposed to be Top Secret, but somehow it had been slipped to the media, and had become a public relations nightmare for the United States. There were several major players in the U.N. that were even calling for the removal of all Core's from America's possession.

And here he was, showcasing an armor suit that threw the fact that they no longer needed the cores right back in their face.

He could feel his face burning names continued around the room, making their way towards him. With a reluctant sigh, he stook from his seat at the back of the class.

"Hello, my name is Falconi Blake," he said, speaking slowly and working hard to remember all the Japanese mannerisms. "I am from Ohio, in America. I know I don't pilot an I.S. like the rest of you, but I do hope that we can still learn from, and help one another through the next year."

He sat back down, every other classmate…all female… staring at him. From some of them, the hatred was nearly tangible. He unconsciously scratched at the rounded allow plate on the back of his neck, a habit he had picked up since he started constantly wearing his armor.

Hands slapped on a desk next to him as a girl with a shock of pink hair tied back into a nearly floor length ponytail stood. Her green eyes had a fiery glow to them as she glared at the teacher.

"Yamada-sensei! How can you as a fellow pilot excuse this!"

Her finger was pointed directly at the young American, shaking in her fury.

"We made an excuse for the Junior in class 2-1 already," she demanded. "But he can't even pilot an I.S.! Is this becoming some kind of a show now?"

"Ah, uhm, Marasini-san was it?" Yamada said quietly. "He is here because not the teachers, but the Student Council accepted his application. It was put to the student body to take Falconi-san in and provide him with asylum while he studied here, and while the United States gets their affairs sorted out. It was decided because even though it is a different design, the fighting tactics and use are very similar."

"UNACCEPTABLE!" the pink haired Marasini yelled.

"Yukiiiii," whined the girl behind her. "You're so noisy. Calm down and let it go. At least we have a boy in our class, it'll give us someone to look at."

"All you do is think about boys, Chisato," Marasini complained back, but quieted and sat down.

All Blake could think about was how he wished he was invisible.


End file.
